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Writer: David Bellamy
(A)He turned thirty-five last Sunday, (D)in his hair he found some(A)grey. But he still ain't changed his lifestyle, he likes it better the (E)old way. So he (D)grows a little garden in the (A)backyard by the fence He's con(D)sumin' what he's growin' now-a-(A)days in self-(E)defense He get's (A)out there in the twilight zone some(D)times, when it just don't make no (A)sense.
Yeah, he gets off on country music, 'cause disco left him cold He's got young friends into new wave, but he's just too friggin' old And he dreams at night of Woodstock and the day John Lennon died And the music made him happy and the silence made him cry Yeah, he thinks of John sometimes, and he has to wonder why.l
(CHORUS) 'Cause he's an (D)OLD HIPPY, and he (A)don't know what to do Should he (D)hang onto the old, or should he (A)grab onto the (E)new He's and (D)OLD HIPPY, this new (A)life is just a bust He ain't tryin' to change nobody, he's just (E)tryin' real hard to ad(A)just.